


Company

by wellperhaps



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Morning Sex, Sera Being Sera, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 10:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellperhaps/pseuds/wellperhaps
Summary: Dorian has had friends before, naturally.





	Company

Dorian has had friends before, naturally. He has certainly spent many a night in the delightful presence of clever, charming people whose company he genuinely enjoyed. Some he even trusted, more than was strictly wise, and had that trust returned. So this is not about that.

It’s just that those friendships were never this close, physically speaking. Oh, no, this is not about sex.

This is about the way Sera nudges him with her elbow, leans her lithe body into him even when there is plenty of room on the long tavern bench. About the way Lavellan touches his hair while reaching up to whisper some amusing remark into his ear. This is about how everyone in the Inquisitor’s inner circle has probably seen every single item of clothing Dorian owns, poorly mended socks and all.

Dorian thinks what he would say, if he were to write to his old friends in Tevinter. Dear Cassius, you will be pleased to hear that I am putting my prestigious arcane education to good use here in the South. Just yesterday I summoned a warm wind to blow into the soggy boots of my elven companion. It was only fair, you see, since she taught me a most inappropriate tavern song and I was in her debt. Ha!

And yes, of course, it is about sex as well. It’s about mornings like this one. Mornings when he wakes up in the very early hours of morning with a heavy, warm arm thrown across his back. The body it belongs to is even warmer, so it hardly means anything if Dorian burrows a little closer. The castle can get so very chilly.

The hand then starts traveling lower. The fingers now touching Dorian’s arse twitch in a purposeless, almost comical way. Dorian smiles, moves his hips with the warm touch. Very slightly, of course. Just enough to maintain the veneer of plausible deniability in case Dorian wakes up his… his companion. The Iron Bull makes a low sound that could have been a word in Qunlat. This too, is what this is about, this new thing that Dorian is trying to figure out. Being allowed to witness another person in such a vulnerable, unguarded state.

Dorian turns, pushes his ass against Bull, and is rewarded with a hardness poking against him. Dorian hums in approval and undulates against Bull’s cock. The hand moves to Dorian’s hip, holds him in place. They stay like that for a while, moving ever so slightly, waves of arousal rolling in Dorian’s belly.

“You awake?” Bull’s voice is rough with sleep. Dorian would prefer to not talk. He would prefer to be pushed onto his stomach, for Bull to take him without any need for language. That is not how the Iron Bull does things, however, and Dorian cannot mind. He has learned that while asking may be difficult at times, the results are more than worth the effort.

“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps you are not either.”

Dorian squeezes the hand on his hip. Bull only hums. They return to silence, spend some minutes only moving together very slowly. Dorian keeps his eyes closed and lets Bull’s hips rock him. He is warm and comfortable. It would be very easy to fall back asleep like this. Then Bull’s cock slides against his balls, and he sighs. Bull’s fingers dig into the meat of his ass. Oh, yes.

Then, finally, he finds himself being manhandled onto his back. He keeps his eyes closed as the blankets are tossed aside and a warm body settles over him instead. His legs are pushed up and apart, his cock trapped under Bull’s soft stomach. Dorian can’t help but whine. Bull ruts against him and moves him as if he weighs nothing. Bull fucks against Dorian’s skin, letting the head of his cock push against his hole just often enough to make Dorian feel... well. Something, certainly. Like he wants to be used, perhaps. This is something Bull knows about him already, so Dorian isn’t too surprised when Bull suddenly slaps Dorian’s cock with his own. Careless, hard. Dorian’s eyes snap open. Bull’s form is huge above him, the outline of his horns and his shoulders all Dorian can see in the dim light. Dorian closes his eyes again, lifts his hips with a needy little whine.  
Bull lines both their cocks up, but really only strokes his own. The occasional slide of his hand against Dorian’s cock is accidental, insignificant. Dorian imagines how small his cock looks against Bull’s and swallows around his arousal. He feels the wetness spreading on his stomach. Wonders if Bull will spill himself all over Dorian’s cock, if he will manage to open his eyes in time to watch.

Bull doesn’t. Instead he makes an impatient noise. He moves lower on the bed and bends to take Dorian into his mouth. After a while, the wet heat and the strong tongue worrying at the underside of his cock makes it impossible for Dorian to stay still. Soon he’s cursing and twisting to get a hold of Bull’s horn, on anything. So close. Bull pulls away. Dorian swears.

“Not asleep anymore, huh?” Bull says, grinning against the head of Dorian’s cock. Then he starts using his hand and it’s over for Dorian. He’s arching up, coming all over Bull’s face. It takes him a while to notice that Bull has finished as well. He’s still grinning when Dorian looks up.

“Sorry. I’m guessing you wanted me to be meaner about it. You were just so damn hot, I wanted to taste you.”

Bull looks ridiculous with Dorian’s seed stuck on his lips. Dorian shakes his head, smiling as well.

They clean themselves up but decide it’s still too early to start the day. Dorian comes back to bed wearing thick socks and nothing else. Bull laughs at him.

They settle down separately, but the bed is not really wide enough for them to sleep without touching each other. Dorian is glad. There is a feeling that keeps moving somewhere behind his ribs, sending jolts down his spine. He feels like there is something to say, but he keeps swallowing it down, not knowing what words might want to come out.

Bull starts muttering in his sleep again. Just as well he is no longer a spy, Dorian thinks and turns to look, to touch the pads of his fingers to the corner of Bull’s lips. Dear Aelia, how is life in the Perivantium treating you? You will be interested to learn I am bedding a qunari these days. I told him I like it when he makes me feel small and used. I haven’t told him I like the way he looks at me when I cast fire spells. He’ll figure it out. He is very good at acquiring information. But don’t you worry, he’s not with the Ben-Hassrath anymore. Ha!

After a few more hours of sleep, there’s a knock on the door. More of a banging, really.

“Oi, no more jousting you two! There’s pie for breakfast, get up and get some. Can’t be all sausages all the time!” Sera’s cackling rings loud and clear even through the heavy door.

Bull huffs a laugh. Dorian rolls his eyes. The company he keeps, these days.


End file.
